emptiness
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Here it is, almost one in the morning and I have done nothing.  I’ve been floored by that Asperger’s pain today.  I am exhausted.  I just want to rest.  I have mountains of work.

I’ve made no effort for the next day–I have not even showered yet or combed my hair.

Why do I fall into this pattern when I am like this?

Do I shoot myself in the foot?

Do I intentionally dig the hole deeper trying to make things worse since I am already down here? Continue reading

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This year, I’ve often been feeling as though I wish I didn’t exist.

This is a tough one to explain to anyone who doesn’t have Asperger’s; the immediate assumption is that you are speaking of suicide. I don’t wish to die, even if sometimes I feel like I want to. Dying is scary and too final. I refuse to intentionally inflict upon my family a loss like that for the rest of their years on Earth. For all they’ve done for me and how much I love them, I couldn’t ever knowingly do something like that to them. I’m also not sure how that fits in with God and my relationship with Him. I know He made me. I know He put me on this Earth. He’s been right about so many things that I’ve been wrong about in the past, I’m not sure if it would be right to just opt out on my own accord.

So please don’t call a suicide hotline and other emergency-intervention-stuff for me, there is a difference. Continue reading

My world is right. The wheels spin, the rhythm continues, the world around me propels forward. Life progresses and I with it. No longer a helpless passenger struggling in vain against the tightly buckled strap as the vehicle of life hurdles ever forward, I release myself to the current. The steering wheel somehow becomes mine and I now drive myself onward. I yield, I navigate through tight spaces, I weave in and out. I become a player, a participator, in this choreographed dance. So seamless, so natural, it’s unknown to me that the transition has even taken place. I just know somehow it has. But not in whole. All but this faint, dark corner pushed to the back of my mind, hanging cautiously above me, has bought into this momentum, this way of life. But if I just ignore it… if I continue in this quickly flowing stream, life is fine.

Life doesn’t hurt. Stimuli doesn’t hurt. Memories are far from my mind. I am able to be in the now. I am able to participate in the now. This present world of life may not be my happiest or favorite, but it is bearable. And bearable is a tremendous gift. All but for the slight walking on glass from that dark corner, life is fine.

But then, everything comes to a sudden halt. Continue reading

Screenshot (3)Sometimes I want nothing more than to escape this body I am trapped in. Like Superman ripping open his shirt revealing his costume underneath, I too want to rip my body open by the chest, step out, kick this exterior aside, and feel free and unencumbered. When the triggers are there and the meltdown is happening, I feel the emotional pain all over. My muscles tense and seize up within me. I feel like uncontained water and want nothing more than to feel held, compressed. My heart doesn’t just hurt, my entire chest hurts. My skin feels like it is crawling and there is this unbearable cry for relief. Continue reading